Gift
by lovablegeek
Summary: [Alternate Universe] It's the first Christmas without Kaylee – and the first one with River. AU in which Kaylee died in the episode Serenity, and Mal shot and killed Simon before finding River in the box, slight MalRiver. [One shot]


A year ago, Kaylee was walking around the ship humming to herself and hanging up little streamers of red and green – Mal never could figure out where she got them, and while he didn't quite approve of such holidays, it made her happy so he couldn't bring himself to say no. A little annoying, yes, all the Christmas spirit, but now, the first year they were all without it since they'd taken Kaylee onto the ship, there was not a trace of red and green decorations anywhere on Serenity, no Kaylee bouncing along the catwalk humming carols to herself while she found places for mistletoe and who knew what else.

Mal ran his hand over the railing of the catwalk, staring silently down into the cargo bay. A year ago, this place would be covered all over with Christmasy colors. A little less than a year ago, Kaylee'd been shot down there in the cargo bay, and he could remember exactly the shocked look on her face when it happened – sweet little girl like her, she'd never been even shot at before, let alone shot. A little less than a year ago, Kaylee'd died in the infirmary, he'd shot the two responsible for taking his _mèimei_... and they'd picked up River. To this day, much as he was fond of River, Mal couldn't consider the trade a fair one.

"Wasn't a trade," River said softly from behind him, and he jumped and spun around automatically – no matter how often she did that, Mal never could get used to how silently she moved around, whether it was in combat boots or not.

Today she was barefoot, in a pale green dress that ended just above her knees, and stood looking up at Mal with a look somewhat less crazy than usual. Not that Mal ever really thought of her as crazy. Odd, certainly, but crazy was a word you saved for people who oughta be locked up, people who were dangerous to themselves or other folk. Without a good reason, Mal amended silently, remembering that he himself tended to be dangerous when he means to be.

"What's that?" he asked gently.

"It wasn't a trade," she repeated slowly, as if she thought him rather stupid for not getting it the first time. She twirled in a circle on the catwalk, standing on her tiptoes, her eyes on her skirt as it flared out a little with the motion. "I wasn't a trade."

"I know," Mal sighed, not quite sure how to respond other than that. Sometimes there just wasn't anything to say in response to the things River told him.

"It was a gift," she said, stopping suddenly in her twirling, falling back onto her heels and landing so she faced Mal directly.

Mal didn't know what to say for a moment, and at last asked simply, "What?"

"Wrapped up in a box and everything. And you opened it."

"River, it weren't even Christmastime when you got on the boat."

River stepped around him smoothly, placing her bare foot carefully on the metal grid of the catwalk, so close to Mal as she passed by him that he could feel the cloth of her dress brushing against his legs, not close enough that she actually touched him. She smiled at him over her shoulder as she did, and said in what could be a patronizing tone, maybe, "The old calendars don't apply. Solar cycles don't happen in the black."

"And that may well be, but–"

She turned away from him once more and kept on walking, he wasn't sure where to. Inara's shuttle, maybe, or perhaps to sit up on the bridge with Wash, but her voice drifted back to him as she walked off, "There was a gift, Captain. And you took it." There was a pause, as she passed out of the cargo bay, into the hallway, and then she spoke two more words softly enough that he wasn't sure he really heard them at all. "Merry Christmas."

Watching her walk down the hallway, Mal wasn't decide which was worse – that he was thinking that maybe today she was just as odd as usual after all, or that despite the oddness every word had made complete sense to him.

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